


Of Blood and Fire

by CagedbyCravings



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:59:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CagedbyCravings/pseuds/CagedbyCravings
Summary: With the threat of invasion looming over the horizon, Lucis sends their best strategist to strike an alliance with the Infernians who have only just ended their Isolation period. When plans go awry, Ignis learns first hand of why the Rogues thrive on blood and fire…





	1. Chapter 1

Of Blood and Fire

 

The trip from the East was no easy feat as Ignis sighed before removing his spectacles. Noctis had insisted that he take one of the fine cars held by the royal family for his journey. Ignis could sense guilt amongst the apprehension as Noctis, Prompto, and Gladiolus saw him off. It loathed the King Regis to send their best strategist into a territory that had only just ended its isolation, but as Ignis deduced, it was a crucial move if they were to win the war with the West. After another battle with the Emperor’s drones had dwindled their defenses, combined with Noctis being unable to complete his quest to receive the Six’s blessing, an alliance with the Infernians had to be made.

 

He’d managed to cut the week long drive in half, stopping for the briefest necessities. The infamous blood walls he’d only read about were far brighter than he’d imagined as the sun began to fall behind him.

 

Mint green eyes sharpened as the iron gates widened. His stomach twisted, sensing something wasn’t right. He glimpsed shadows in his peripherals, materializing his daggers whenever the first strike landed from behind…

 

* * *

 

 

The moon untucked itself from wispy clouds as the sound of broken glass rang out in the quiet night. A young boy, no older than ten rushed into the streets, two guards trailing him. “Freeze you little shit!”

A smirk etched into his features, the shaggy haired kid scaled the wall with near precision, knocking in another window to escape. He’d been so clever, planning his night out to the last minute. His only surprise was pickpocketing the not-quite-asleep guard in his chair. Nevertheless, he’d escaped as he slung the bag off his shoulder, kneeling to greet his goodies. Pouches of gil, jewelry, and some old gold would buy him some respect amongst the others. Small for his age, Kostya more than made up for it in swiftness and smarts. Learning early on how cruel children could be, the boy learned how to outsmart his assailants.  Tightening the drawstring on his bag, he swung his stolen rewards over his shoulder before venturing out of the abandoned apartment. He’d managed to make it to the northern end of the city. he carelessly failed to check his corners as a pair of hands snatched him out of sight. One hand on his mouth, the other over his torso, he struggled with the figure dragging him backwards. “Kostya, stop this.” His chestnut brown eyes contained a glint of mischief as the figure released him. Turning quickly, the moonlight shining in his dark messy curls, Kostya grinned placing his hands on his hips, triumphantly.  “I knew it was you the whole time. I just wanted to test your reaction.”  

Stepping out of the shadows, a woman stood over him. Her matching black uniform taut against her curves. Messily tied ribbons lined her thighs as her corset shaped her upper body. A dark red cowl tucked over her face, covering all but her deep set ambergine eyes. They softened at the boy, knowing full well she was playing into his hands but alas, as they were safe, Emniya couldn’t help but forgive him.

“It’s late. We need to get back before someone notices you missing from bed.”

Kostya shrugged. “Does it really matter? I am the age to be recruited, yeah? What difference does it make if I sneak out of the orphanage on my own or not?”

Emniya sighed, her eyes fatigued from worrying. “It has to do with protection. Regardless if you’re recruited for the Commander or the Rogues, you need to remember to establish yourself so that if you run into trouble, you have someone to watch your back.”

“Is that not what you do?” His question was sincere, a rarity for the snarky boy as Emniya stopped mid step to look at him. “I mean, you’re blessed under the Infernian, yeah? That’s why you save people instead of hurting them.”

A mixture of emotions ranging from gratitude to sadness filled her ambergine eyes as a chuckle fell from her lips. “What am I going to do with you, kid?”

 

* * *

 

 

Their usual route was stunted whenever Emniya caught sight of the blood guards. They marched in pairs, chattering about the most recent gossip leaked from the High Tower. Whether the conversation be about the Blooming Bordello or the desert chill, Emniya knew crossing their path wouldn’t be worth it. Kostya on the other hand, still lead by his youthful impulse, found himself readying a rock to toss at them. His aim was nearly perfect as the stone hit its target. The angered guard rushing towards them as Emniya slid open a grate, yanking the boy inside. She had just barely tucked her gloved fingers from sight whenever the guard’s flashlight shone on their faces.

 

“Rogues!” He shouted as Emniya and Kostya crawled quickly through the sewer system. Even with her knowledge of the underside of the city, Emniya still got nervous about blindly lifting sewer grates. Far too many Rogues had lost hands, eyes, and necks poking their heads out at the wrong time. _May Ifrit be with us_. She prayed before lifting the grate above their heads. The shouts of the enraged guard no longer reached their ears as she hoisted herself onto the cobblestone. Reaching for Kostya, she passed him a fleeting glare as he sheepishly rubbed his head.

 

“Sorry, Emi. I guess I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Shaking her head, Emniya stood and scanned the area. The cobblestone was still warm from the sun as the ancient graveyard leading to the abandoned church bore a level of serendipity she couldn’t find anywhere else. “What is this place?” Kostya asked, his eyes widening at the building.

 

“It’s what remained of the old city before the Commander had it destroyed.”

 

“Have you been here?”

 

Emniya nodded her eyes drawn to the church as she felt compelled to enter. Once a sanctuary to weary travelers, curious scholars, and creative minds, the Infernian’s sanctuary brought peace to a land of chaos. She could remember pouring over the forbidden text she’d stolen from the High Tower’s library as things began to make sense. Reaching the altar, she saw candles in colorful votives. Crimsons and golds glistened in the moonlight. Focusing her energy, a red glow surrounded her hand as she swiped her palm over the candles, lighting them one by one. A comforting glow rose in the room as ambergine eyes widened at the sight before her. A statue of Ifrit towered above her. With one hand extended and the other propped under his face, she reached into her pockets for an offering. Leaving a handful of gil along with a few herbs she’d harvested. His responsive whispers had always been striking but in that moment, his presence overwhelmed her to tears. During her dreams, he left a particularly intense effect on her. But here in this moment, she’d felt connected in way she hadn’t experienced since her trial of fire.

 

As a child, she used to fear the Infernian’s whispers in her mind. Knowing that his call would lead her to the flames, she’d sob ripping at her flesh glowing with the magic of Ifrit. The searing pain that weighed heavy on her delicate soul. However she began to embrace the dreams after meeting Mother who showed her how to develop her gifts for the sake of the family she’d been accepted into. Her tonics and potions were useful for those who couldn’t afford the doctor. Her clairsentience had saved her fellow Rogues on many an assignment within the blood walls. And while the most painful, she retained the ultimate gift bestowed by the Ifrit.

 

The sound of glass shattering disrupted her thoughts as she blinked. A man wobbled from behind the statue, his attire—what remained of it, had been slashed as scratch marks littered his torso. His tawny hair had draped over his eyes, his lips parted as he spoke incoherently. That’s when she saw it, droplets of black dripping from his mouth.

 

She spoke to him in the language of Ifrit, watching for a reaction. When he didn’t respond, she worried her lips as she struggled to form the words of a language she’d only read about in books. “You are hurt…I may help?” One of the subtlest nods left him as she launched forward as he collapsed onto her. She grunted under the weight as she wrapped her arms around him, struggling to move them away from sight. Propping the man against the altar, she set to work at removing his clothes. His lithe frame revealed a chiseled abdomen as she felt a rush of blood at her cheeks. Shaking away her thoughts, she yanked the chain from around her neck; grasping at the blood red crystal she’d been given at after the trial.   Lifting the crystal over the wound, she grimaced as the lacerations lifted from his skin to hers. Closing her eyes, she swallowed the cry building at the back of her throat. _The Gifts of the Gods aren’t without their price._

 

The man gasped, struggling to lift his head as she caught a glimpse of gratitude in mint green eyes. “Thank you.” 

Emniya nodded as he slumped forward, resting against her chest.

“Emi?”

The brunette nearly jumped from her skin as she overlooked her shoulder. “Kostya.”

“Who’s that?”

“I don’t know, but we have to help him.”

Kostya nodded before hesitantly moving towards them. The man groaned as Emniya lifted him on shaky legs. Her energy had drained much faster than she’d intended as she began to pant.

“Emi, are you sure you can do this?” Kostya shot her a nervous look as Emniya gave an unconvincing nod.

“Just be on the look for anyone, yeah?”

He nodded before lead the way out of the church, brandishing a knife from his pocket.  The grate creaked as he slid it to the side, watching Emniya carefully lower the man inside. She motioned for Kostya to go ahead of her, as her ambergine eyes scanned the graveyard for any prying eyes.

Sliding inside the sewer, she failed to notice the person watching carefully from a distance.  A woman with raven hair acutely cut, hiding one her glimmering grey eyes, clicked her tongue as a smirk etched into her features.

“Oh dear Emi, what trouble have you brought upon yourself this time?”


	2. Chapter 2

Of Blood and Fire

Chapter Two

 

_A twisting in his gut was his only warning before feeling searing pain in his back. Just before he could scream, a gloved hand clamped over his mouth. Muffled voices reached his ears as he struggled to deduce whether it spoke kindly or cruelly whenever a pinch caused his eyes to flutter close._

Mint green eyes shot open as nausea overwhelmed his senses. The blur of a trashcan entered his sight as he lurched forward, allowing the metallic taste to escape. He could feel a burning desperation in his stomach as his vision spun. The vague touch of hands on him made him panic as he materialized his daggers, stabbing in blind directions. 

“Please calm down…” A voice urged. “Take a breath.” A light touch to his bicep was all he needed to target his strength, plunging the dagger forward. He’d caught skin, as droplets of blood landed on his face. Mint green eyes sharpened as he saw a weak spot, aiming directly for the heart of the person standing above him. A painful pinch stopped him as pressure to the back of his neck froze his movements. An unsettling chill seeped into his bones as he felt his arms fall to his sides. Eyes wide in shock.

A pair of legs bent to his level as he felt something cold on his forehead. “I will not hurt you.” The accent was heavy, the words spoken without complete confidence as Ignis locked eyes with violet. “Please, get back into bed.”

As Ignis tried to remember the events leading up to this moment, a draft entered the room as his vision sharpened long enough glance down at his naked form. Feeling blood rush to his cheeks, he grabbed the first item available. Tearing the fluffy white blanket from the bed behind him, he stood unsteadily, eyes searching for an exit. “Tell me where I am!” His demand made Emniya flinch as she cautiously stood. Holding the blanket with one hand, and materializing a dagger with the other, he realized how much height he had on her smaller frame. Not taller than 5’6, with an untrained posture, he deduced that she would be easy to take down if necessary. He instinctively squared his shoulders, ready to strike whenever a round of dizziness caused him to collapse.

 

The sun’s final rays heated his flesh as Ignis eyes fluttered open. He sat up gently this time, preventing another vomiting episode. In search of his spectacles, he noticed a steaming egg dish in front of him. Without thinking he hungrily scooped the food into his mouth with the foreign utensil. Even in his haste, he could taste the various spices and herbs as he finished with a satisfactory look in his eyes. Gaining a bit of strength, he looked towards the end of the bed where his clothes were neatly folded. Dressing himself in all but his shirt, he took a moment to analyze his surroundings. He’d been resting in a sleeping nook with a wooden side table next to it. Books, journals, and an old picture frame lined the table as Ignis lifted the of photo Emniya and Kostya embracing each other. Her lips pressing a kiss to his cheek. Kostya’s smile spread from ear to ear.

 

His eyes drifted to the Ifrit statue surrounded by candles and incense as Ignis recalled what he’d read about the Infernian’s current ideology clash. At the very end of the hall was a room divider and a bookshelf closing in on what he assumed was Kostya’s space. A makeshift bed consisted of fluffy colorful pillows and blankets as images of the boy sliding open the grate flashed in his memory. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued to search for his glasses.

His body began to ache, stiff from not moving as he slowly walked towards the stairs. From where he stood, he could see a living area connected by a table leading to the confines of an old country kitchen. Entering he took comfort amongst the rustic dishware, the window garden lining from the kitchen window to the small table in front of the face of the clocktower. Freshly harvested lavender dried in the sun as he noticed the mortar and pestle holding a bright orange spice inside.  The stove was still warm as he deduced that whomever saved him had only recently left him to his own devices.

 

Entering the living area, he found a fireplace draped with a blanket of greyed soot. He’d stepped on a pile of wanted posters as they revealed Emniya with bold lettering attached: 

**Wanted for Distributing Illegal Substances. Reward: 5000 gil.**

Scanning the other wanted posters, he glimpsed many accused of several crimes ranging from drug trafficking, to theft, to murder. Casting doubt on the integrity of his saviors, Ignis all but limped towards the clocktower’s face. His vision wasn’t quite strong enough to make out exactly what was transpiring in the enclosed courtyard but from what he could tell, it wasn’t good.

 

 

* * *

The enclosed courtyard used to serve as a place of comfort in her childhood. The smell of incense blended well with the summer blossoms that caressed the smooth stones beneath her bare feet. Emniya had often felt lulled into the embrace of the environment as the weight of isolation faded from mind. Tonight however, under the light of the full moon, Emniya could feel something was off. In the center of the courtyard, a great fire burned with a growing crowd surrounding it. Nearly everyone in the family was present, a rare and borderline reckless decision unheard of for the Matriarch. Mother was wearing her ruby and gold arm cuff. A forbidden item that could lead to her hand being removed by the current Commander. In her hand was a long, lapis blue pipe filled with poppy powder. Another offense that could lead to her missing a limb. Both only appeared when something terrible was about to happen as Emniya swallowed her fear. 

A fist connected with what remained of Zedd’s face. The middle-aged man and his wife were of the select few permitted to live outside the blood walls. He had previously implored Mother for more protection against the daemons that plagued their farm. Such a request would only be granted if the famer was able to afford it.

Judging by the amount of blood splatter and missing skin, he _wasn’t_.

Mother, her hair in silvery twists running along her back, gazed with astute azures at the man being beaten to a pulp by the muscly Rogues. She inhaled another puff of poppy powder, unfazed by Zedd’s pleas. It wasn’t until Mother caught Emniya in her peripherals did she raise her hand, halting the oncoming punch.

Emniya felt the eyes of the others on her as time seemed to slow to a glacial pace. Over the years, she’d learned the truths that all Rogues were bound to. _The fealty to the Matriarch was comprised in three parts._

_No withholding of tithe went unpunished._

Her ambergine eyes glanced towards Zedd. His arms were tied to the chair behind him, his head nodding as he choked on his blood.

Her eyes widened, the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She bit her lower lip seeing Kostya next to the one person she’d hope he never meet. _Avarice._ She didn’t fault the boy, _ever._ She’d chided herself into thinking that she had more time to protect him from the Rogues. He was so young, still so naïve, still so damn impulsive.

Avarice was the one in charge of recruiting from the orphanage, a sickening sixth sense of who would be able to handle Initiation.

_No one became a Rogue without bloodshed._

Pushing away the images of her own Initiation, Emniya felt her eyes flicker towards the ground, submitting, before leaning down to press a reluctant kiss to Mother’s wrinkled cheek.

_And above all, no secret was worth keeping from the Matriarch._

Her eyes locked with icy azures as time resumed its natural speed. Emniya kneeled before the Matriarch. 

 “You called, mama?”

“Take a seat, daughter.” Her voice, deep and velvety, had always unnerved Emniya. Sitting crossed legged, Emniya did her best to prevent any emotion to cross her features, watching as Mother signaled for the beating to continue.

Desperate to focus on anything other than the light fading from the farmer’s eyes, Emniya glanced around the courtyard. Their numbers had grown to over a thousand in the past couple of years as she recognized former blood guards now enlisted in the ranks of the Rogues. Still, none of that explained why Mother had gathered so many of them together at once. Her eyes returned to where Kostya and Avarice had been standing, her nerves stricken with panic when she didn’t see them.

“You seem troubled, daughter. What concerns you?”

Emniya nodded towards the growing crowd. “This many people in this heat is making me queasy.” It was not a complete lie, Emniya disliked large crowds as she felt the energy of too many people.

In any case, Mother seemed content with her answer. “Patience. My announcement will have been worth the discomfort.”

Emniya watched with a pained expression as Mother motioned for Zedd’s beating to cease. Two Rogues dragging his body away. She stood from her throne as the courtyard fell silent.

“My dearest family. Today marks a victory for our people. The Commander in a rare moment of clarity has brought an end to Isolation.”

Allowing a moment of applause, Mother smiled before holding her hand up. “But this does not mean our _bellum sacrum_ is over. We cannot rest until the Infernian has been restored to his rightful glory! For it is through his bloodshed, that we are here. And it is through his wisdom and mercy that each generation be gifted with a Daughter of Ifrit. ” Once again feeling the many stares on her, Emniya tensed as she rose to grab the Matriarch’s hand. “We will need your sacrifice, _all_ of your sacrifices in these trials we face. For it is by the blood, his fire is restored.”

“By the blood, his fire is restored.” The chants echoed in the crowd as grey eyes filled with disdain.  

 _Like a contagion._ Avarice propped herself against the wall, her eyes sharpening on Emniya. Mother, in all her power held together the constellate of Rogues. And had done so single handedly since Isolation had begun. In her perspective, Emniya wasted her potential on irrelevant rituals to Gods who had long since abandoned them. The time squandered using her _own_ blood to create crystals, mixing incense, was already enough to send fire into her veins. But perhaps even more infuriating was the most incessant waste time. _Prayer._  Mother was aging, and would soon be passing on her title of Matriarch to one of them sooner than later. Avarice, while highly adroit in combat and interrogation was without her gifts of the Infernian.  Unlike Emniya however, she would not have wasted such precious energy on creating tonics for the poor and sickly. She wouldn’t waste her clairsentience skills on petty matters such as gaining empathy for those who opposed her. Avarice would seek to build the Rogue’s strength. Creating a far more brutal, efficient force to overtake the state from the Commander. And she’d do it without the blessing of the Gods.

* * *

 

Emniya still felt the warmth from Mother’s kiss on her forehead. A rare spectacle of affection, Emniya couldn’t resist the smile tugging at her lips.  Mother had been withholding, shutting down any physical connection since Emniya could remember. And yet the mere touch of someone else brought comfort in a way she hadn’t realized she was missing.

It was late, as even the moon had tucked itself into its bed of thick clouds. She allowed her mind to wander as she made her way home. The moon’s rays extended across the desert city as she gazed with curiosity at what lied outside the blood walls. Were the whispers true? That in the east existed an entire city of light? That in the west lie the grave-site where the Glacian finally rested? Only read about in books, Emniya had spent her childhood imagining what the other Gods must have been like. How did they treat their children on Eos? Did all of them require blood to receive their gifts? Her questions were an endless distraction until the night she and Kostya saved that man. A flicker of hope burned in her heart as Emniya dared to wonder what kind of life she and Kostya could have outside the blood walls.  

Her moment of respite was interrupted by a hand clamped over her mouth, tearing her from her thoughts. She squirmed feeling her body lifted from the ground before being thrust against a stone wall. Adrenaline had just coursed through her veins as she unconsciously grasped for her blade. Plunging the knife forward, she felt a vice grip threatening to crack her wrist. An unsettling laugh rose from the darkness as ambergine eyes locked with glimmering grey. Prying the knife from Emniya’s hand, Avarice used her other arm to pin Emniya’s neck.

“Release me, Avarice!” Emniya hissed as she thrust forward, almost loosening the grip at her neck.

“Why? Do you have somewhere to be? I’m surprised you aren’t sticking around to see if anyone needs healing…” Her voice was raspy, just barely above a whisper whenever she leaned closer, grey eyes just inches from violet. “Or rescuing…”

The was a flash of dread in Emniya’s eyes before she blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You were always a shit liar.”  Avarice slipped her free hand down Emniya’s uniform, snaking downward between their legs as the raven haired Rogue placed her hand dangerously close to an area she was already too familiar with. Emniya struggled, writhing under Avarice’s lustful gaze. “Why don’t you visit my bed anymore?” Emniya looked past her towards the oncoming flashlight from one of the blood guards patrols.

“Let go! If one of the blood guards sees this…” Dread filled her eyes as a dark laugh fell from Avarice’s lips.

“If you’re quiet, they won’t notice us…It’s worked before, right?” Avarice’s hand worked in small circles against Emniya’s taut uniform as she continued to squirm.

“You have to stop.”

 

“Is that what you truly want?” Avarice removed her arm from Emniya’s neck watching as she inhaled sharply.

 

Releasing herself from Avarice’s grip, Emniya wasted no time in scaling the stone wall before vanishing from sight.

 

An amused smirk crossed her features as Avarice licked her finger tips. _Guard your precious secret while you can, dear Emi. Everything in the dark comes to light eventually._

 

* * *

 

 

His time as advisor the future king of Lucis had provided the strategist an abundance of patience. However, sitting in a dark apartment alone in a foreign territory was enough to test his limits. His eyes were strained, causing a headache as he massaged his temple. His eyes on the doorknob, he tensed as it turned.  The front door opened quietly as a shadow crept inside. Materializing his daggers, he tackled the unsuspecting figure.

 

Their bodies collapsed, as Emniya cried out. Her head smacked against the ground dizzying her. Twice now she was pinned, her face just inches from someone else’s in the dark.

 

“Get off.”  She growled.

 

“Provide me one reason why.” Ignis demanded.

 

“Because…” She squirmed against him. “You cannot be seen.”

 

Ignis reluctantly lifted himself from her Emniya stood quickly to close the door. Latching the dead bolt as she ignored his gaze, as she slid her hand across the wall, in search of the light switch. A dim light flickered to life as she stood before him.

 

For the first time he was able to analyze the person who rescued him. Her dark red cowl removed to reveal her short, messy curls. The same color of the calla lilles at his family’s estate. Her deep-set violet eyes were striking against her topaz flesh.  She was not traditionally beautiful. Not like he’d seen in Lucis. Her presence louder as if demanding to be heard. A look of uneasiness settled into her eyes as Ignis realized his daggers were still in hand.

“Who are you?” His tone was harsher than he intended as she tensed. “Emniya. And you are?”

“Scientia.”

“Sci-en-ti-a.” She sounded out his name as he nodded. She muttered something in Infernian as he narrowed his eyes. A blend of melodic with soft, deep undertones reached his ear as he waited for a translation she didn’t provide as she turned hesitantly towards the kitchen.  

“Are you hungry?”

The sincerity of the question caught him off guard. Regaining his composure, he nodded allowing the daggers to dematerialize.

“Did you…”Her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the word. “en..joy the dish from this morning?”

He nodded again, as he wondered how to better deal with the language barrier. The room fell silent as Ignis couldn’t resist standing at the edge of the counter watching her prepare the meal. He deduced she was partial to using mostly vegetables with an array of spices which he couldn’t help but appreciate.

 

Splitting the dish evenly amongst their plates she looked at him curiously, her mouth turned inward as she set a plate in front of them. There was a pause before she returned to the kitchen bringing over a clay teapot and two cups.  

“How do you say…” She pointed at the clay pot.

“Teapot?” 

She shook her head, eyebrows knitted. Eyes downcast at her frustration.

“Tea?” Ignis eyed her finger tapping gently the teapot as he watched her eyes flicker with encouragement.

“Tea!”  She beamed before catching herself. Her smile faded from her face as she looked away, embarrassed.

Ignis placed his hand near hers, watching as she curled her fingers into a fist. “Emniya,” He began, studying her body language. She seemed anxious, a stark contrast to the enthusiasm he’d witnessed just a moment ago. “If you would like, I will teach you the language we speak in Lucis in exchange for your teachings in Infernian. Deal?” Extending his hand across the space between their cups, he watched as she began to lift her hand towards him. Her violet eyes were cautious as if she worried he was materialize a dagger through her palm. He offered a reassuring smile as she placed her hand in his.

“Good. Now shall we start with what we’re eating?” He lifted his utensil with his other hand pointing at the dish before them. In his peripherals he caught a smile tugged at her lips, her eyes containing a glimmer of…hope? He was eager to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bellum sacrum: religious war


	3. Chapter 3

Running in the sun had brightened her earthy skin tone, leaving her cheeks flushed as she tucked her sweat slicked curls behind her ear. Looking down at the ingredients she’d purchased from the market, she felt almost giddy. The Festival of Flames was taking place. In the past decade or so, the Commander granted them their right to celebrate the Festival noticing the baby boom it produced every year. Three days of dancing, feasting, and offerings to Ifrit’s softer side. The side of robust laughter, playful salaciousness, and fire play. The first day was celebrated as a time of gratitude for the blessings of the previous year. The second day was filled with harvest and satisfying primal desires. Encouragement for a brighter, more hopeful following year were celebrated on the last day.

On her first day, Emniya had woken even earlier than usual to begin prepping the celebrations. Candles, incense, and golds and reds adorned the walls spilling into her doorway in a rare show of faith. She’d rushed to the market as soon as it opened, bearing no shame at being first in line for the ingredients and herbs she’d need.

Waiting at her home was a man who represented life outside of the blood walls. Already, she was so grateful.  Her eyes lit up, as she could practically feel the brightness in them. There was just one more thing she needed before heading back. _His spectacles._ Over the past several weeks, they’d cracked the language barrier separating them from actual conversation. However, as time went on, she noticed that the strategist had a persistent headache that required him to rest every few hours.

She’d returned to the abandoned church, to find nothing behind the altar where she’d found him. Worrying her lower lip, Emniya found herself asking locals. It was the baker who’d recommended she look in the marketplace. If those glasses were to be found, Jax the opportunistic scavenger would have them.

She’d arrived at his stand where miscellaneous baubles and trinkets gleamed in the sun. Her eyes trailed each row of items until the pair she’d found the lightly damaged pair. Jax, a short statured man in his late twenties watched her carefully, his eyes matching hers.

“You do not wear spectacles.”

Emniya shrugged. “And? I’d like to buy them.”

“But these are clearly for men.”

Emniya quirked a brow. “What do you want for them?”

Jax leaned forward, as Emniya mirrored him. “A favor. I need you to get a message to someone in the the Bloom.”

“Jax…” Emniya tilted her head, uncertain of where this was going.

“It’s nothing bad. Just give Roseline this.” He withdrew an envelope from his jacket. “Do that and the spectacles are yours.”

Emniya passed a glance towards the spectacles as she forced an impatient sigh through her nostrils.

“Fine.”

* * *

 

The Blooming Bordello, one of the few vices permitted by the puritanical Commander, was sequestered away from the rest of the city. Restricted contact meant the blossoms who sat idly inside, had little else to entertain them aside from smoking poppy powder and listening to music.

The air was stained with pink smoke as Emniya watched two blossoms drift off to sleep. Clinging to the shadows, she cautiously looked for anyone vaguely resembling the description Jax gave. His scratchy voice echoed in her mind . _She’s got hair like the flower and a voice like an Astral._

She’d just rolled out of sight whenever the sound of sniffling reached her ears. Overlooking her shoulder, Emniya watched a woman with hair like a rose sitting with her back facing the Rogue. Knowing this situation would only have two outcomes, Emniya worried her lip as she lifted herself from behind the couch to see Roseline holding her knees. Tears dripping from her eyes. Undoubtable the Festival would increase their visitors, regardless if they were celebrating.

“Roseline?” Her whisper caused the blossom to flinch as she looked over her shoulder with wide eyes smudged with mascara.

“H-How did you know my name?”

Emniya shook her head, shifting her eyes towards the exit. “It’s not important. What is important is the message Jax sent.” She had just handed Roseline the envelop whenever a door slammed open. Emniya ducked behind the couch as Roseline shoved the envelop in the cushion below her.

“Roseline?” A woman with a slimming build bordering the lines of acetic, stood hovered over her. The Madame’s tightly wound bun seemed to tug at her face, giving her an almost inhuman appearance. Her piercing green eyes stared down at the young girl. “I’m here to collect.”

“B-But Madame I already paid my s-share.” Roseline felt herself begin to shake.

The Madame shook her head. “The Commander raised the blood tax. I’ll need another fifteen percent.”

“F-Fifteen percent?! How will I afford food?”

The Madame’ checked the room for any prying ears, before allowing her face to soften as she joined the young woman on the couch. “We can split it into payments, but I will still need to collect.”

Her words offered, perhaps, the first bit of comfort Roseline had found since entering the brothel as she agreed.

“Okay, good. I’ll be back tomorrow, yeah?”

Hearing the Madame’s footsteps fade, Emniya reached into her pocket, withdrawing a small bundle of gil. Unraveling it carefully, she smiled before sliding it in the envelop wedged between cushions.

Roseline shifted, her hand discreetly reaching for the much fuller envelop. Her eyes widened as she leaned over the couch, her savior nowhere in sight. Roseline thought a moment before an idea struck her. In the whispers of the Bloom, she’d heard that had Matriarch chooses two daughters. One who thrives on spite and suffering. And the other who thrives on selflessness and sacrifice. Roseline pressed the money to her, a grateful smile spreading across her lips, her whisper sweetening the air. “Thank you.”

* * *

 _Lowering_   _his hand to her steady her hip, he watched as she overlooked her shoulder with those deep set eyes he’d grown accustomed to seeing each morning. A flicker of lust filled them as she bit her lower lip. Tossing her hips back at him, he tightened his hold, nails sinking into her flesh. He teased her already dripping entrance before slowly entering her. Her lips pressed together in a soft hum. Hum? That couldn’t be right._

The humming grew louder as Ignis cracked open his mint green eyes. His erection poked through the sheets as he covered it with a pillow. Regaining some composure he slid his glasses across his face, curious as to the source of this disembodied humming. Descending the stairs, his eyes widened at the spread on the table. Colorful fruits, braided bread, and smoked sausages were served as he saw Emniya busily scrambling eggs and boiling water for their morning tea. She dressed in a crimson tunic top revealing Infernian proverbs lining the front of her shoulders. Her tied skirt shimmered gold against the darker red material that hugged her hips as she danced bare foot in the kitchen.

Music played softly from the record player as he watched her hips bounce and sway. She was oblivious of how her skirt lifted as she twirled, her eyes closed, lips parted to mouth the lyrics.  

What little sexual engagement he’d had in his youth turned into more research than relations. He needed to be prepared to handle anything as the future king’s advisor. That said, as Gladio often pointed out, _it was one thing to theorize, it was another to practice._

Much to his disappointment, the song ended as Emniya slowed her pace as she sifted the tea, before pouring the steaming water into the teapot. He’d grown accustomed to the potent brew stinging his senses awake. He still missed his precious Ebony but in the meantime, the morning tea Emniya crafted for him was enough. Whether a tonic, or a dish a magic radiated from her as she never _made_ anything, she _created._

The strategist felt his heart flip when her face spread into a smile. “Good morning.” She greeted, a flush to her cheeks as he took the egg dish from her and set it beside the sausages. He stood close enough to catch a whiff her perfume. A rich, earthy blend that brought a smile to his face.

“Good morning.”

Their usual morning routine had involved Ignis offering his help in some way. Today he’d set the table with napkins and utensils. He hadn’t heard Emniya behind him as he turned around too quickly, their bodies colliding. In a moment of panic, he thrust his hands forward with the intent of steadying them. He succeeded at the cost of a gasp escaping from her mouth. In his haste, he’d connected their hips with one hand while grasping her wrist with the other. The moment halted time as mint green peered into  dilated violet irises, the hand on her wrist feeling her pulse elevated. His reaction had been no better as he tensed, hardening painfully against his zipper. His teeth sunken into his lower lip.  

The fires of Ifrit had ignited in her body, spreading in ways she’d not felt without pain attached. This fervent surge overwhelming her senses.  They’d become magnets as resisting what few inches existed between their lips seemed futile.

The impatient clearing in Kostya’s throat made them freeze. Emniya broke the stare to see the boy glaring daggers. He waited for them to part, providing adequate space for him to pass between them towards his seat at the table.

Ignis, for all his knowledge and confidence, was never good with children. They were too sporadic, unruly, loud. Noctis was different as the strategist was introduced to him as a toddler. They were literally raised together. His attempts to engage with anyone significantly younger than him often backfired as the images of ice cream, vomit, and snot caused an unpleasant association. None the less, he’d always end up in a staring contest with the boy. Kostya staring at him with those distrustful chestnut brown eyes. The strategist recognized the mistrust in his eyes, the disdain on his tongue as he spewed Infernian at Emniya who merely waved off his frustrations.  And now Ignis had encroached on territory that Kostya had long since claimed making for almost palpable tension whenever the two of them were left in a room together for more than a minute.

Ignis deduced by Kostya’s festering would only be a matter of time before enough pressure filled his mind and the words would burst from his mouth.

Kostya didn’t care for this man. _At all_. His foreign lilt hit the boy’s ear wrong. When Emniya began to teach him about their language, their culture, the history of the blood walls; he was livid. Emniya had been too trusting. This outsider carried himself as though he were above them. From his sly smirks at Emniya’s mistakes in his language, to his bumptious swagger. Above all things, Kostya abhorred the _lingering._ The way his eyes lingered on Emniya when she entered the room. The way his words would steadily slow as he inched closer to her when they’d believed him to be in bed. And now, after catching them in _that_ position his patience was holding by a withered string. Emniya mentioned something about forgotten candied cream as she returned to the kitchen, just out of earshot.

“Why did you come here?” Kostya didn’t bother to hide his irritation as Ignis quirked a brow; not realizing how much the boy had learned from the lessons he’d shared with Emniya. Setting his teacup down, mint green eyes locked with chestnut. Ignis opened his mouth to speak whenever a knock at the door caused them to jolt. Emniya rushed for the strategist, pushing him towards the space benathe the stairs. Covering it with a colorful tapestry, Emniya took a deep breath, wiping the nervousness from her hands on her skirt as she opened the door hesitantly.

Emniya sighed in relief at sight of the elderly woman who visited to sell her loaves of bread. Ushering Kostya to fetch her pocketbook, Emniya offered her generic conversation, determined to stay in the woman’s view of the tapestry. Kostya soon returned as she paid the woman for her goods, the two bowing in respect.

“May the Fires of Ifrit guide you.” The old woman cooed. 

“And to you.” They said in unison.

Ignis could practically hear the relief leaving Emniya’s body as she helped of the crawl space.

“Sorry about that. This evening we’ll see about getting you some fresh air, yeah?”

Ignis nodded. “That would be pleasant.” He’d been gracious about his growing cabin fever, as he craved to exist in more than their quaint but limited apartment.

Tucking a curl behind her pierced ear, Ignis noticed she’d purchased new earrings lining her lobes.

“I have something for you both.” Ushering the two back to the table, she placed their gifts in of them as the two exchanged glares. Kostya begrudgingly yielded first, as he unwrapped his new blade. His eyes lit up as it had been the very one he’d been eyeing in the marketplace for weeks. Ignis’ narrowed his eyes as Kostya shot him a threatening look as if daring the strategist to say something. Emniya had been oblivious as she eagerly drank her tea, a gentle hum leaving her lips. Her eyes traveled to Ignis’ gift as she worried her lip.

The strategist delicately unraveled his gift, gratitude washing over his features as Emniya felt her heart skip indescribably. He gently placed the spectacles over his eyes as her heartbeat raced. The blood rushing to her cheeks as his glasses enhanced the vibrancy of his eyes.

A small crack in the lens wouldn’t bother him too terribly as Ignis heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Emniya. Your efforts are most appreciated.” He gazed curiously in her direction as he noticed her blushing. “Are you alright?”

She nodded emphatically before clearing her throat. Turning her head towards to Kostya, she smiled. “I figured you may need that for your endeavors.”

“Yep. This will serve me well during my Initation.”

Her fingers wound tightly around her teacup, Emniya’s pooled with fear as she realized her mistake too late. His eyes were already darkening as his smirk curled far too similarly to Avarice. Violet eyes filled with instant regret as he flicked open the knife, admiring its gleam. Swallowing the emotion in her throat, Emniya encouraged the boy to eat.

Ignis tilted his head at their terse exchange. Knowing Emniya often tried to hide her displeasure, for his sake or for Kostya’s, he wasn’t sure . She began eating slowly finding enough joy in the meal to return some light to her eyes.

* * *

 

Night had fallen as Emniya had taken great measures to ensure his safety and more importantly his anonymity. The hooded leather trimmed coat prevented anyone from seeing his features as he followed Emniya through the shadows. They’d have to stay off the ground as too many prying eyes would suspect something. Rich earthy incense mixed in with summer blossoms in the air, enticing Ignis’ senses.  he looked towards the marketplace. Men, women, children happily celebrating the Festival of Flames. Ignis was almost overwhelmed with the aerial view. Fire breathers, salacious dancers, charming illusionists shedding new light of his understanding of Ifrit. Amongst his people, he was not the damnable betrayer lore made him out to be. He was warmth against the desert chill. He was comfort against the daemons beyond the blood walls. He was hope in land despaired by autocracy. The thought reminded him of his reason for being here. He was to establish an alliance with the Commander. In the missive they’d received, the Commander vocalized support of the East’s intentions to win the war with the West. However, from the number of Rogues he’d noted, Ignis began to suspect they were setting the groundwork for a coup. Knowing that this could provide vital information to the King, Ignis bit his lip. He’d need to shift his strategy. His eyes shot towards Emniya. Her violet eyes locking with his mint green as he reflected on the first lesson of strategy. Utilizing his resources until they could no longer serve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bellum sacrum: religious war


	4. Chapter 4

Noctis would strain his eyes permanently if it made the phone beside him ding with any indication of life. It had been nearly three months since Ignis departed as the desolate prince began to fear the worst.

“Hey Noct,” Prompto cooed, an attempt to suggest without intruding on the brooding heir apparent.  “Would you wanna go take some photos? The weather’s perfect.”

Sparing his lover the glare he’d been preparing, Noctis merely shook his head in a polite decline.

Rising from the couch before the blonde could say anymore, he returned to the privacy of his room. Inhaling deeply he closed his eyes, focusing his magic. A violet glow surrounded his body as he craned his neck upwards. Of the many gifts the Crystal afforded his family was the gift of teleportation. Not limited to just physical manifestations, anyone bestowed with Caelum family magic were given  _second sight_  allowing the royal family to see through their eyes.

The initial connection was scattered, fuzzy as if there was something blocking him. He caught glimpses of flames and a woman dancing inside them. Her curls bouncing in rhythm with her hips, deep set eyes fluttering open to reveal reserved lust. Her lips parted, the whispers undecipherable to his ear. Her hand extended forward as the deep undertones of Ifrit filled his ears, echoing loudly into his skull. Shaking his head, Noctis releasing an agonizing scream.

In seconds, the door slammed open to reveal Gladio and Prompto weapons materialized. Seeing their pain stricken prince hunched over his desk; one hand slammed to the wood, the other digging into his tear ducts.  

The two friends exchanged worried glances before Prompto tucked away his pistols. “Noct, You okay?”

When Noctis didn’t answer, the blond hesitantly rested a hand on his shoulder. Noctis eyes fluttered open as he turned his head at a glacial pace. “There’s…a woman…I think she’s blocking me from seeing Ignis.”

“What woman? Is it someone from the West?” Gladio stepped forward, dematerializing his sword.

Noctis shook his head, removing his hand from his face. “No, it wasn’t them. It was…something else.” Squaring his shoulders, Noctis sharpened his stare at his sword and beloved. “Ignis needs us. We’re going after him. ”

* * *

The second day of the Festival of Fire had ended as those who resided in the clocktower were almost relieved to be nearly complete with celebrations. They’d been a bit bolder, Ignis and Emniya, slipping into the outskirts of the festival. Providing the foreign strategist with a taste of Infernian cuisine.  Nutmeg, cinnamon, and orange zests tickled his tongue as he immediately understood Emniya’s affinity for blending sweets with spice. Providing him more of an understanding of how her delightful scent came to be.

Ignis had just finished drying the dishes and placing them away whenever a pleasurable sigh reached his ears. Gently setting the pot on the counter, he quietly inched towards the bathroom. Candles adorned the small wash room illuminating the woman soaking in the tub.  A gasp escaped parted lips as Emniya tossed her head back, curls bouncing midair. The antiqued grey tub glowed in the flickering light offering a warm gleam against her tattooed shoulders as mint green eyes trailed down her breasts tucked just beneath water’s surface. Her knees bent, parted just enough for her hand to travel into the steaming water as she bit her lower lip. Her eyes were closed, her body giving into the natural pleasures surfacing that evening. Using her free hand, she cupped her breast, fingers caressing circles around her nipple. Her deep-set eyes fluttered as another pleasurable sigh fell from her plump lips. Tossing her head back, her eyes screwed shut as she mewled. “Scientia.”

Ignis felt his breathing hitch. Tensing in the shadows, he felt himself harden at the sight. He shouldn’t be here. This was private. Persistent flashbacks blurred his vision as he still felt the warmth from her breath on his lips, his hand on her waist. Thoughts too perverse to ever vocalize flooded his mind as he subconsciously unzipped himself. Ignis chided himself feeling irked by his instant throbbing. A floor mirror gleamed over Ignis’ hovering silhouette as he dared to gain a better—closer view. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he licked his lips, ignoring his pesky inner voice’s lecture on how wrong this was.  

The water began to ripple, her hand moving faster. Her moans—his name, were spilling from her mouth. “Scientia.” Her ragged breathing caused her chest to rise and fall, her breasts tipping out of the water as she arched her back. She uttered something in Infernian, as the strategist took another step forward.  _Ignis. Please, call me Ignis._

His pulse pounded in his ears, his hands began to tremble, desperate to tend to his throbbing erection. He found himself just inches from the tub, grateful to the shadows that hid him in that moment. Her body writhed, her head tipping backwards, breathing hitched.  _She’s close. So very close._

“Mmm, please-“ She moaned louder.

_I mustn’t act upon these desires. This is beyond inappropriate. And yet…_

Her hand had left her breast, extending over the tub as if inviting him closer. Adjusting himself back into the uncomfortable material, Ignis kneeled beside the tub. The fragrant herbs from her bath infiltrated his senses as he brought his hand above hers. It was the closest he’d allow himself when she was in this blindingly blissful state. What he wouldn’t give to be inside that water in this moment. To feel her walls clench around him, her hands gripping his shoulders, to make those moans into screams. He could feel the urge to say something— _anything_  to make these thoughts a reality. The Six must have heard his pleas because in seconds, he’d lost control of his tongue at that moment. “Emniya…”

His smoky tone sent uncontrollable shivers down her spine as she froze. Her head had turned, violet eyes locking with bespectacled mint green as she breathed. Her climax had dissipated as embarrassment caused her to break the stare. “S-Scientia, I didn’t hear you come-“

“Ignis, please.” He paused her words, placing a finger to her lips before lifting her chin. His free hand delicately laced his fingers between hers. “And I promise to always tell you when I’m about to come.” He couldn’t resist the smirk spreading across his face.

She tucked her head into his hand, her curls sharing stolen droplets from the bath. “Ig-nis..” She cooed, her eyes lighting up in a way he hadn’t expected. “Ignis Scientia…” Her voice dipped into sultry depths as he leaned forward, their lips just inches apart.

Time seemed to slow once more as they connected. Their lips parted, as they inhaled each other. The strategist felt intoxicated on her scent. Lacing his fingers in her curls, he deepened the kiss earning him a moan. Eyes still closed, he could feel her shift closer, her dripping body seeping through his clothes. She gripped his collar, using it to balance herself. Ignis lifted her small frame from the water, as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Impatience got the best of him as he set her against the vanity counter, spreading her legs to look at the source of her dripping heat. Placing a finger on either side of her entrance, he felt the slick residue seeping out of her. It took every bit of effort for him to not rip himself from his clothes and take her then.  _No, not like this._

Cupping her ass, he pushed her closer, as she gazed into his bespectacled eyes. In that moment, they were all that existed as she slid her hand down to feel him, gently tucking her hand inside his boxers. Her touch earned her a throaty groan as the strategist wavered for a moment. “Yes?” She whispered, eyes ensuring his consent.  

“Yes.” He returned the favor as he inserted his index finger into her entrance. She clamped around him, walls quivering at his touch. Pumping his finger inside of her, he watched for every reaction. Gasps, moans, and whimpers fell from those voluptuous lips of hers as she gripped his cock. He unbuttoned his pants, allowing them to fall as Emniya bit at her lower lip.

He held her chin with his free hand, a subtle show of dominance as she happily submitted. Scooting her hips off the counter, she fell on bended knee as he discarded his boxers. Her hands on his thighs, her lust filled violets closed. Her tongue led her way to his tip, swiping away the droplet of precum that had escaped. Running her tongue from base to tip and back again, she eagerly suckled on each sensitive spot of his arousal. She’d earned a muffled moan as she cupped his balls. He’d bitten his lower lip, eyes watching diligently as her lips drifted upwards. Inserting him into her mouth, she suckled and teased on his most sensitive crest.

“Emniya…” He breathed. The strategist almost whimpered as she lifted off him to gaze upwards.

“Emi, please.”

She’d missed the smirk on his lips as she returned to filling her mouth with him. Hallowing out her cheeks, she hummed, angling her head to where he’d struck the back of her throat. His hand behind her head pushing her forward, causing her to unceremoniously gag. He’d felt himself harden even more as she continued to bob, his moans filling the room. His climax approaching, he quickly removed himself from the warmth of her mouth before gingerly lifting her to her feet. She eagerly kissed him, hands tangled in his tawny hair. “Ignis, I need you.” She breathed as he lifted her bridal style. The strategist placed a soft, comforting kiss to her lips. “Then you shall have me.”

* * *

A chill descended on Emniya as goosebumps freckled her bare skin. Ignis was gentle in lying her on the sleeping nook. Pressing gradually rougher kisses against her lips, he trailed to her neck before nibbling. She arched at his touch, as he took one of her breasts into his mouth. She bit at her lower lip, depriving him of the moan building in her throat. He could feel her hands yearning to touch him as they blindly grasped for his warmth. Grasping at her perky breasts, he lapped at the sensitive nipples as she keened. “Ignis…” Her breathy whispers would be his undoing if he waited any longer. Unbuttoning his shirt, Emniya patiently eyed his chiseled abdomen so carefully hidden within his lithe form. He removed his glasses, placing them on the side table as she shivered in anticipation. As he pressed his chest against her breasts, she could feel his tip at her entrance. Their eyes met as he whispered. “Yes?”

“Yes.” She breathed, hands readying themselves on his shoulders.

He placed a passionate kiss to her lips, before slowly inching himself inside. She tensed, walls clenching, eyes screwed shut as she winced. “Relax…” He whispered as he sucked on her lower lobe piercing. The pleasure mixed with pain caused her whimpers fade, leaving more room for her moans to echo off the walls. His thrusts were steady, making his moans harder to stifle. Rolling his hips into hers, he silently thanked the Astrals as she adjusted to his length, nails relaxing at his shoulders as they continued.

Violet eyes opened to see the unsealed hunger in those mint green eyes. His undulated thrusts struck her hips as she tilted her head back, her sight blurring with bliss. Her climax neared again, her moans hitting an octave that would surely shake the walls if he continued at this pace. He must have sensed her thoughts as he slipped his hand between the two of them, rubbing her sensitive nub. The friction overwhelmed Emniya she all but expended her strength to buck against the strategist. Triggering a primal urge in him, he slammed his hips into hers while vigorously rubbing her clit. Her walls clenched harder this time, enclosing around him as he watched her eyes close and her jaw drop, the briefest pause before her screams pierced his ears. His hips smacked against hers at a vigorous pace, his push towards the cliff of his control causing his voice to tremble with pleasure. “Emi, I c-can’t. Going to come-”He continued at the rigorous pace until he joined her in the blinding realm of euphoria. His orgasm overflowed from her walls, as he gripped the pillow beneath her curls, a low throaty groan escaping his lips. He lowered himself to her level; pressing his forehead against hers, the sounds of their ragged breaths carrying to the front door where Kostya stood. His hands clenched white, eyes aflame, he locked his jaw. This had been the final straw. His anger imploded, causing his impulses to take hold. Turning on heel, he closed the door, eyes ablaze at the foreign strategist’s naked form.  _As he has brought death to my life, so shall I do the same._

Sweat slicked tawny tufts covered his eyes as Ignis panted. Leaning down to press a soft kiss to Emniya’s lips, before lifting to gaze at the woman beneath him. Her curls stuck to the pillow, her hands on either side of her head, her deep-set violets still glazed with bliss. When they finally reached his, he felt his heart flip as they lit up. “Ignis…”

“Emi…”

“Was that your first time?” She smiled sweetly.

“It was.” Feeling a little self-conscious, he averted his gaze. He’d been the last of his friends to engage in complete salaciousness. And now that he’d confessed it aloud, he worried his lip uncertain of her reaction. 

Emniya tucked her fingers around his chin, gently tugging his gaze back to her. “I’m glad. We’ve shared so much together. If feels good to know that there are still firsts in our future.”

Her words chased away his embarrassment as he leaned in to kiss her bruised lips. “Oh, Emi…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I’ll forever thank the Astrals for bringing me to you.”

“And I to you.”

* * *

Enjoy the fluff, it won’t last in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter Five

Avarice exhaled a puff of smoke into the night air, grateful for the quiet that swallowed up the noise of the festival. The final day of the festival concluded as the more pious Infernians retreated into their homes to present offerings to Ifrit for a better year to follow. Avarice internally scoffed.  _Such a damn waste._ Reaching the center of the enclosed courtyard, she eyed Mother’s throne, resisting the urge to sit. It had been nearly a decade since she first kneeled before this throne. Her hands had been bloody. Her eyes gleamed with madness. Images blurred her sight as she allowed herself to travel to the past.

When her hair didn’t cover her glimmer grey eye. She’d been so young, so naïve in the High Tower. The only daughter to the Commander, her birth had been celebrated with far more exuberance than her brothers. Her father’s large hands lifting her up into the air. Giggles spilling from her lips, eyes gleaming with joy. She’d been so oblivious to the resentment her step mother and brothers shared. Her father’s love for her knew no bounds as she was dressed in the finest silk and wore the brightest jewelry. There was no luxury too grand to be bestowed on her. She shared more than her father’s physical appearance. She shared his wit, his cunning, his ability to never coerce—but to persuade those to do his bidding. It’d been yet another day in her sheltered life. She’d been in the hall when it happened. Her long raven curls flowing behind her, her oblivious grey eyes lit up with the same haughtiness afforded to someone of her privileged status. One grip was all that was need for her small frame to vanish from the hall. Time slid to an agonizing pace, her heels ripped from her feet, her eyes wide in panic. Her arms were pinned to the side as her kicks and swears were ignored as she struggled on the table. Trepidation overwhelmed her as she bit and scratched at the men restraining her. She recognized her brothers, each pinning her down.

“Hold her still.” The disembodied voice caused her to freeze. Grey eyes met with the woman who shared her father’s bed. His whore. A holster for his cock. Nothing like her mother who died in childbirth.

“Let go of me, bitch! I’ll see to it that you're burned at the stake!”

A dark chuckle reached her ears as Avarice glowered.

“Oh, Avarice. You’ve always lived up to your namesake. Selfish, inconsiderate. Greed’s incarnate.”

Nimble fingers swiped away from her wild raven locks from her eyes. “Consider this your greatest lesson in humility.”

The iron rod used to stoke the fireplaces burned an eerie orange as Avarice’s eyes widened in fear. Struggling beneath the various holds on her arms, legs, and head, the preteen released a bloodcurdling scream as the iron seared her right eye.

Unable to move from the pain, tears fell from only one of her eyes as she whimpered and trembled on the table for hours. When she gained the strength to find her father, she expected his usual embrace. A kiss on every tear, a caress to her singed cheek. Instead, he took one look at her, and grimaced. Cringing at the sight of his once perfect creation. Avarice recognized the disgust on his face as she felt the world around her fade, her young psyche shattered. A twisted smile reached her lips that day. An depraved look in her eyes as she began to seek revenge.  She’d cut her hair, angling it to cover her blind eye from the insufferable stares in the Tower. The whispers turned to jeers, only adding to the contempt she bore for the Commander and all who served him. She’d just need to wait for the right moment to present itself. And when it did, she’d be ready.

One moonless night, she waited for one of the Commanders Lieutenants to enjoy just a bit too much alcohol on his latest trip to the Bloom. Avarice had been aware of his love affair with her step mother, and was nearly giddy when she discovered his affinity for straying.  She’d trembled with eagerness, hidden in the shadows, as he reclined from his orgasm. Blissfully unaware of what was to befall him. The chloroform had taken effect as he lied there, defenseless to the plucking of his own eyes. Avarice had already reached the rooftop whenever the screams of the blossoms reached her ears.

An all new evil rippled in her soul whenever she presented both her tithe and blood shed to the Matriarch. The inexpressive woman had been astonished, uncertain as to how to receive the daughter of the man who enslaved her people. Permitting Avarice to enlist among the Rogues was one of the proudest moments of her life as her time as a runner, led to lead interrogator before receiving the honorable title of Daughter. The day she’d met Emniya, she’d licked her lips similarly to a beast eyeing its prey. Emniya had been a couple years younger, eyes wide with inexperience, ears so believing of the “truth” Mother spoon-fed her. Avarice had been present for Emniya’s Trial of Fire. Her chilling screams mirrored her own as Avarice extended the first hand to Emniya as she crawled from the pile of embers.

Having the daughters to the Matriarch remain so close in age, benefitted more than just the Mother herself. Avarice and Emniya  _had_ to share a room together. To build the connection between them, Mother had insisted. Avarice could remember sharing a bed with Emniya and not quite feeling close enough to her. Despite developing early, Emniya still needed more experience to be up to par with Avarice’s mentality. That night, Avarice decided to  _offer_  a helping hand in more ways than one. Emniya had been babbling about her latest tonic inspired by Ifrit, whenever Avarice silenced her with a kiss. When her sister tried to pull away, Avarice summoned some of that strength used to pin her down that fateful night in the High Tower. Emniya didn’t stand a chance and despite her best efforts, failed to keep Avarice’s determined digits from entering her. Emniya knew better than to scream knowing full well what Avarice could do with her infamous blue blades. The healer resisted often by pushing her face into the pillows, fisting the sheets, until the day orgasms erupted from her unexpectedly. The muffled screams of pain and pleasure brought Avarice to the edge time and again. As Avarice’s need grew, the topic of knife play entered their sessions. Watching Emniya tremble under her blades brought unparalleled joy to the fighter. The same glints of pleasure in her eyes mirrored the same wench who blinded her. That night, Avarice coined a phrase that would stick with them both for the rest of their lives.

“Everyone pays with a piece of their flesh in the land of Ifrit. It’s not so much a matter of how much you pay, rather who you pay it to.” Avarice had vowed to never pay with her flesh again. Unlike Emniya, who looked for ways to sacrifice herself for those around her, Avarice didn’t see the point.  _A hand extended to give is a hand extended to be stabbed._

Avarice had received the inspiration to dye the blades with a poison after watching Emniya use her abilities to save someone from a daemon’s bite. Historically, the Daughter of Ifrit sacrificed others to create tonics blessed by the Gods. However, Emniya didn’t care for that idea and argued that the act was open to interpretation.  Her perspective had been honored in exchange for her use as a test subject. Mother too had been curious as to the extent of her new abilities. As it turned out, there were a couple major limitations to her gifts. The first, Emniya’s body was still bound to her physical limits.  The second and perhaps the most cruel, _The time to heal must not exceed the time remaining in the afflicted life_. Avarice had mastered the art of pushing Emniya to her limits as their nights often consisted of her blades resting on topaz flesh, waiting for the writhing healer to react to the poison to affect her. Eventually, Avarice didn’t  _need_ to cut into her flesh to gain the reaction she wanted.

A hum fell from her lips as Avarice thought of her sister. To her knowledge, Mother never knew of their activities and seemed almost bothered when Emniya moved to the clocktower. A fire dipped into her stomach at the thought of pressing her body against the glass of the clock’s face, her squirming and pleas to never stop.  _We’re cut from the same cloth. Why else would we be so evenly matched? There’s no one I’d rather fuck senseless._

The wind blew as Avarice overlooked her shoulder. A thought suddenly occurred to her as a dark chuckle fell from her lips.  _She wouldn’t have kept her pet in the clocktower. That would be careless even for Emniya…_

The sound of footsteps caused her to sharpen her gaze at Kostya. The boy’s eyes were darkened, as she could practically hear the anger radiating from him.

“Hey kid.” Avarice sat at one of the concrete tables, continuing to smoke her poppy pipe.  “You ready for this?”

Kostya nodded emphatically, squaring his shoulders.

“You have a target in mind, then?”

Chestnut eyes sharpened as venom filled his tongue. “There’s this foreigner…”

Avarice raised a brow, waiting for the boy to elaborate. “Who?”

“He’s the man we rescued from the old chapel.”

Grey eyes narrowed as she took another puff. “Go on…”

“He’s been in the clocktower this entire time.” Kostya huffed, kicking a rock in frustration. “He’s an intruder who…” Images of Ignis thrusting into Emniya made his blood boil. “Keeps taking what doesn’t belong to him.”

Avarice nodded, her suspicions confirmed. Rising from the table, she leaned over to him, connecting their foreheads. “I’m glad you told me this, Kostya. You’ve just earned yourself a very important role in the Rogues.”

“Yeah?” His eyes lit up in childlike wonder. “As what?”

A twisted smile curved her lips as she leaned to whisper something in his ear.

“Really?!” Kostya beamed. “That’s great! When can I start?”

“Easy, there. There’s still protocol to follow. Are you up to date on your tithes?”

He nodded.

“And you’re prepared to spill blood for the name of our family?”

He nodded slowly this time, reservation in his eyes.

“Now then, have you any secrets or know of any secrets that the Matriarch should know?”

He thought a moment, images of Emniya sharing their culture and language with that bastard foreigner.  His browed furrowed.  _But that doesn’t mean that she’s shared Rogue secrets…does it?_

“Kostya,” Avarice lifted his chin, grey eyes piercing his uncertain chestnut eyes. “There is no secret worth keeping from the Matriarch, you understand?”

He nodded. “But what if  _I_  wasn’t the one to initiate the secret?”

Avarice kneeled, offering a façade of understanding. “Then you won’t be in trouble. That said, the Matriarch cannot effectively guide our family without complete honesty.”

Kostya averted his gaze, his stomach turning with uncertainty. He knew the laws the Rogues abided by and yet, betraying Emniya still didn’t feel right. Gripping his arm nervously, he worried his lip. “I don’t want Emniya to get hurt. Just  _him._ ”

Avarice’s feigned ignorance, eyes widening. “Him?”

“Ignis Scientia.”

Tilting her head, Avarice listened to the boy vent over how close Emniya had become with this stranger. His face flushed with anger as he revealed their most intimate moments. “And he is still there now?”

Kostya nodded but before he could reiterate that Emniya wasn’t to blame, Avarice rose and grabbed him by the wrist. “Come, it’s time for your Initiation.”

* * *

Ignis swept up the remainder of the shattered glass on the floor as Emniya slumped in one of the chairs.

“Emi.” He cupped her face, peering into her devastated violets. The shattering of her heart nearly reaching his ears. Swallowing a cry, she forced a response. “Yes, Ignis?”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but what did you mean by…” His voice drifted off as he struggled to use the Infernian phrases he’d just heard. Emniya nodded, understanding what he was saying.

“He…” She paused, to wipe tears escaping from her eyes. “I do not think there is a word in your language. The closest translation is…your life bears no worth.”

The words struck him as he realized he’d misunderstood just who Kostya was projecting his anger towards.  The boy had finally snapped before storming out of the apartment leaving Emniya in shambles. Her pained expression caused his heart to sink, eyes filling with sympathy, his arms tightening around her. Regaining some composure, Emniya let out a shaky sigh. Her eyes lifting to meet his, he pressed a gentle kiss to her tear stained lips. “Emi,” He cautiously began, not wanting to place any more weight to his words lest her glassy composure shatter completely. “What did you mean by life outside the blood walls? Can you not leave on your own volition?”

A surge of emotion filled her eyes as he caught saw trepidation in her eyes. Realizing there was but one option at this point, Emniya heaved a shaky sigh. “No, we can’t. No one has been able to leave since the start of Isolation fifty years ago. Even with it recently coming to an end, the Commander wouldn’t let any-” Her heart painfully pounded against her chest as she contemplated her words. Could she trust him enough to hold Rogue secrets? Worrying her upper lip, she felt the words climb up her throat, attempting to claw their way out. Biting her tongue, she watched as Ignis gave her a knowing gaze.

“Does this have to do with those wanted posters you burned?”

 _So he did see them._ Her shoulders dropped in defeat as she realized there wouldn’t be any fooling him of their  _family_. “How much do you know?”

Ignis shifted, his mint green eyes gazing out the clocktower window. “I deduced that you were part of the resistance as soon as I saw your…attire. However, I am still curious as to why you brought me here in the first place…”

Emniya shifted, her eyes drifting to the floor. Ignis narrowed his eyes, her decision wasted precious time he didn’t have. Regardless of how fond he was of her, Ignis reminded himself of a cruel fact.  _She is only temporary._ He needed to remain objective which meant he didn’t have time for niceties. Especially if she knew he’d been sent as ambassador.

“It’s not what you think. The night we found you, you were hidden in an abandoned part of the city.”  

He nodded, waiting for her to continue. “Do you care to elaborate?”

“Elab-or-ate..” Confusion registered on her face as frowned.

“Do you care to explain why you didn’t take me to a hospital? Or call for a doctor?”

Emniya shook her head. “We aren’t permitted to see a doctor. The Commander forbids it.”

“Because you’re a band of criminals?”

She flinched at his words. “Ignis…I know not what life is like where you come from, but I can tell you that we Infernians do not have a lot of the same privileges that we used to. They were stripped away when the Commander took power. We have done what was necessary to survive.”

Ignis sharpened his glare. “I came here for a reason, Emniya.” When she didn’t respond, he released an exasperated sigh. “Would you at least explain what happened to me?”

Emniya sighed. Her ambergine eyes drained of their usual brightness.  “When we first found you, your blood had been poisoned. Do you recall whether your mouth felt like it was burning or if it was metallic?”

His brows knitted, as Ignis thought a moment. He could still feel where his body had been slashed, his shoulders, ribs, and chest suddenly hot. Surely, he’d be able to place the taste in his mouth. His eyes closed, his mind taking him back to the iron gates. To when the first blow struck him.  _His mouth had opened before a hand clamped over it. His mint green eyes widened feeling someone force something down his throat. It dissolved quickly as his chest felt close to spontaneously combusting._  “It was a burn that gradually became hotter.”

Emniya nodded, her violet eyes lifting to meet his. “Then you were likely given one of the Commander’s toxins. Its purpose is to literally melt the body inside out. It’s especially harrowing because the afflicted person tries to physically remove the toxin from the outside, in.”

Ignis stared in disbelief at her words. His mouth parted as he struggled to process what she’d said. “But that would imply…”His voice dropped as his mind tried to process what he’d heard, the images replaying in his head. If what she claimed was true, then there weren’t necessarily a bunch of thugs who attacked him. His wounds had been self-inflicted.  _Why would the Commander have him poisoned after agreeing to discuss an alliance? It didn’t make sense._

Emniya waited for him to reach his conclusion watching his eyes fill with disbelief. “What evidence would you have of this?”

She frowned. “You believe me to be a liar?”

Ignis felt anger creep into his face as he breathed, regaining his composure. “You’re making a serious allegation in a situation in which too many lives are at stake.”

“And you think bringing you here benefitted us in anyway?” Violet eyes flashed in anger. “Do you have any idea what it would cost me if anyone found you were here?” She shot up from her chair, fists rounded to tightly her knuckles cracked.

“This isn’t a matter of a life or two. There is a myriad of lives caught in the crossfire.”

“And you’re wanting to what, help the man who has already slaughtered thousands of his own kind?! What could you possibly get from that?!”

“I’m not to be involved in what  _savagery_  your people have brought upon themselves! I-“ He caught his tongue too little, too late as he saw the utter devastation in her eyes. She bit her lip to prevent the tears welling in her eyes as turned slowly to look out the clocktower.

“Very well.” Her voice was brittle, as Ignis could hear the glassy composure she’d mustered, shatter. “I will take you to find evidence of the Commander’s doing. From there you can decide if you should stay or leave.”

The weight of her words wore heavy on his shoulders as Ignis felt shame burn his cheeks. His lip quivered as his mint green eyes were down cast. He’d heard of the discrimination and contempt the East held for their neighboring region. How their barbaric practices clashed with the puritanical, leaving their government vulnerable to a coup. As a result, anyone who’d escaped and sought refuge were deemed  _savage_ s. Regret seeped into his heart, his stomach nauseous with disgust at his actions. He resented the source of that discrimination as images of his parents mistreating their Infernian maid flashed before his eyes. Rounding his fists, he internally cursed himself. He’d broken the one vow he made the day he left to live with his uncle. _To not be like them._

He wanted to say something— _anything_  to atone for his impudence.

Emniya turned suddenly as she grabbed her sandals, storming out of the apartment.

* * *

  
Kostya inhaled sharply as the Matriarch finished her rousing speech about family, the power of Ifrit, and the sacrifices necessary to ensure their success. He swallowed his nerves, glancing up at Avarice who playfully winked at him.

“And now, dear family. Our newest member, young Kostya, future runner!” Mother pulled him in front of her, hand on either shoulder as the uproarious applause seemed muffled to his ear. Kostya could feel his lips force into a smile. This was everything he ever wanted and yet his happiness was nowhere to be found. The previous morning crept into his mind as he swallowed. Perhaps there was something to Emniya’s words…

Kostya shot up from his chair, his heated gesticulations amplified by his words. He could feel Ignis watching from the sleeping nook, further infuriated that he couldn’t even have a private conversation in his own home.

Emniya rounded her fists before drawing in a shaky inhale. “He represents life outside the blood walls. He is proof that we don’t have to live as Rogues.” She leaned down to his level, placing her hands on his shoulders. “We can have a better life-.” His scoff cut her off as he forced her arms from him. Venom thickened his accent as he repeated the same words he’d heard Avarice utter in the past. They seemed so light as they flowed through the air. However, as they left his tongue he realized the exact weight of what he’d carelessly repeated. The blow of his words caused her to step back, as he saw her violets fill with tears.

Breaking the stare, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door with as much force as he could muster. Images of the past played in mind like an old movie reel. She was the one introduced to him to wishing on a star. She was the one who encouraged his ideas no matter how outlandish. She was the only person who looked and him that day in the market. He’d held her gaze daily for nearly a decade.  Her affections and patience, her dedication and effort, her pride and lovewere  _his._  

She’d betrayed him. She’d given away his place in her heart to that… _foreigner_. A dark laugh escaped his lips as Emniya’s voice filled his mind. _No matter what happens, Kostya. We will always be family._

His ears perked up at the sound of Emniya’s shaky breathing as the air struggled past her muffled sobs.

Forcing himself from the door, his footsteps felt heavy as his persistent memories continued. He wasn’t expected to survive to toddlerhood, meaning he was fed, bathed, and remembered last in the orphanage. There was a day where he’d wandered outside. Hungry and dazed, he stumbled into the street where the vendors had set up shop. His matted shaggy hair blinded him as his frail legs wobbled until he collapsed. He couldn’t recall how long he’d lied in the sun, or how many people ignored him as they walked past. The urge to cry remained despite his dehydration, as he parted his chapped lips. A sense of impending dread filled him as he felt death’s cruel grip around his throat as a strangled whimper escaped him. He flinched at the warm touch on his skin. Nimble fingers carefully smoothing the hair from his eyes. Her voice was soothing, as he felt the taste of cold water at his lips. The refreshing coolness brought some light back into his eyes as he soon felt the taste of bread at his mouth. It was sweetened with jam as he slowly chewed. Gaining enough strength to see clearly, his eyes locked with a comforting smile. The words spilling from her lips were muffled as he struggled to lift himself. When he couldn’t, he felt her tender embrace around him, as she gently cradled him. His body left the ground, as he instinctively latched to her chest, head tucked over her heart. For the first time in his life, he felt… _loved._

He’d learned, laughed,  _lived_ because of Emniya.

It was Avarice’s weight on his shoulder that brought him back to reality. She’d hovered over him, as he looked up. The glimmering grey that had once attracted him left him feeling nauseous. She was everything Emniya wasn’t. Cold. Intimidating. Predatory. Those eyes filled him with dread as his stomach twisted.

“Come now, we have much to prepare and I want you present for every step.


	6. Chapter 6

The days to follow, Ignis had noticed more than just the distance between he and Emniya. She’d grown quieter, some nights sleeping hunched over at the table, waiting for Kostya to return. Other nights she’d spent her entire time in the streets, as Ignis watched from the clocktower. She’d spend hours making tonics and before delivering them around the city. Returning to their shared space completely drained. The effects of her gifts took their toll on her, as she’d lost weight, sometimes struggling to close the door behind her.

However, on this stormy night, he noticed that she looked particularly exhausted. Her curls had grown, dusting her shoulders as she kept them in a messy low bun. Her violet eyes were listless and sunken in as he hadn’t seen her smile since their altercation. The thought of her never smiling in his presence made his heart sink in despair.

“Here.” She extended her arm to hand him attire that matched hers, as Ignis noted she wouldn’t look at him. “You ought to change quickly. Our window to get to the High Tower is short.”

Ignis nodded as Emniya turned towards the lit fireplace. There wasn’t much privacy as Ignis shuffled out of his clothing, quickly sliding into the taut uniform. He had to admit, she had a near perfect guess of his measurements.

Emniya could hear him slide into the boots she’d lifted from their Lederer as she turned to look at him. Ignis expected to see spite in her eyes, instead he noticed the smallest smile tug at her lips as if giving her approval.

* * *

His years of training came in handy as Ignis utilized every bit of strength, balance, and agility to follow Emniya in the pounding rain. Lightning guided their way as they launched from slippery rooftops, scaled walls, and lifted themselves from dripping ledges before crossing into what she called the Grip of the Commander. The streets were cleaner, the buildings newer, the blood guards far more numerous.

Tucking themselves into the shadows, Emniya motioned towards the illuminated High Tower. Traveling through sewers wouldn’t cut it, they’d need an actual entrance.

* * *

The crackle of the fireplace blended with soft moans as two bodies shuffled amongst the sheets. A woman tossed her head back, undulating her hips against the man beneath her. He groaned, the remainder of his orgasm filling her as she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

The man’s hair had long since faded to white, as his reign had aged him—weakened him far sooner than he cared to admit. His dark eyes glanced towards the sleeping woman he’d shared a bed with.  _Carnal pleasures be damned._ Rancor coursed through his veins, dissolving any bliss he’d had. Fifty years had passed since he led the coup that took over the hedonistic matriarchy. Forsaking the teachings of the Infernian seemed so imperative in establishing his autocracy back then. Now that he would not be able to stave off death, his attitudes had begun to relax. He stopped berating the guards for their vices. He’d allowed doctors to see patients outside of the High Tower. He’d given back their Festival.  His reflection shone in the glass as he scowled at the streets below.

And yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t eradicate the pestilence that were the Rogues. His own daughter had betrayed him, enlisting to one of the highest possible ranks.  _Daughter to the Matriarch._ A scoff left his mouth he rounded his fists. Lightning flashed as his eyes trailed down to the courtyard where two cloaked figures slid past his oblivious guards, entering through a jarred door. He’d been patient these past years. Waiting to advance on the savage’s compound so long as they stayed away from his tower. However, on this night, he’d have to implement a decision he’d long since put off.

* * *

  
The doors to the library closed as Emniya wiped the beads of sweat from her temple. They’d done it. They’d reached the center of the High Tower without raising alarm. Ignis’ eyes trailed the chained bookshelves lining the walls.  He’d considered himself privileged to study in the palace’s library. Proud that the king opened the doors to students of all socioeconomic status to visit. He agreed that some censorship was necessary to maintain a populace but this, the complete barring of knowledge laid heavy on his heart.

He’d seen the healer in his peripherals, her eyes filled with childlike wonder as she gazed at the shelves. “Emniya?” He whispered as she blinked blankly at him. It took her a moment but she snapped back to the reality of the situation. “Sorry. It’s this way.”

She’d led them deeper into the library passing tables dusted with time. All the drawers aged considerably apart from one.  Picking the lock to the drawer, Emniya waved the strategist over.

“What files do you need?”

“Anything to prove the allegations at hand.” The words cut at his tongue as he watched for a reaction from Emniya. Her expression remained neutral, her fingers lining the files. They’d been labeled by date, as she retrieved the most files containing information from the West.  Flipping open the largest file, she frowned. “You are…a liaison from the East?” Her whisper was laced with venom. “Why would the East send a liaison to meet with genocidal dictator?!”

Ignis inhaled sharply, his shoulders tensing. “Emniya, there’s far too much confidential information regarding that question.”

Emniya shot him a look of disbelief. “So, then how do you propose I translate this without knowing more about what brought you here?”

“There’s more to this than you realize. Many important lives are at stake.”

“You mean more important lives…” Emniya glowered.

Their attention shot towards the entrance of the library. Quickly shuffling out of sight, they waited on baited breath. The open drawer divided them. Equal forces tugging the file closer in their own direction.  The footsteps paused drew their attention, as Emniya recognized a certain gait in the man’s walk. Her blood froze as the shadow towered over them.  _This isn’t a blood guard. It’s the Commander himself!_  Internally panicking, her violet eyes widened as she swallowed the fear in her throat. Releasing her grip on the file, she began to search for someway—anyway to find an escape. The footsteps grew closer as Emniya grew more desperate. The large pane window overlooking the city would be a drastic move but with dwindling options, they had to act fast or face the wrath of the man who would publicly bleed them out without a second thought.

Lifting herself from the ground, she carefully rolled into the shadows, away from the desk. She scaled the bookshelves, carefully climbing like a jaguar on the prowl.

Ignoring the enticing thought, Ignis materialized his daggers.  He peered around the edge of the desk as something fell in the opposite corner of the library, drawing the shadow away from him.

In a moment, he saw a flash of a figure eyeing him from above. His vision sharpened as he watched Emniya extend a hand from the top of the bookshelf. Tucking the file into his inner coat pocket, he joined her at the top as she seemed relieved to be near him.

Their stares didn’t last long as a gunshot made them freeze. With no time to react the two rushed for the large pane window. Emniya had just enough time to tuck her cowl over her face whenever she slammed her weight against at full force. It shattered as she rolled onto all fours.

Ignis lifted her to her feet, taking her hand and leading them away from the High Tower. Lightning guiding them as they launched from rooftops until they’d run out of breath.

In a rare moment of panic, Ignis overlooked his shoulder his eyes widening.  The illuminated high tower had faded from white lights to crimson as a shrill alarm sounded. The streets lined with armed blood guards. “Emi, what happens now?”

Emniya hunched over, arm tucked into her chest as she breathed. “We need to get to the sewers. They won’t reach us there.”

Ignis nodded before swallowing his increasing trepidation. “Which way?”

Emniya tried to hide her wincing as she straightened herself. Her eyesight began to blur as her breathing became labored. Dizziness began to overwhelm her as she stumbled into Ignis’ reach.

“Emniya,” His bespectacled eyes widened in worry.

“I’m fine, we have to get to the sewers.” Her words were dropping as she struggle to keep her balance.

Placing one arm around his shoulder, he pressed her body against his, feeling her recoil at the contact. “You must speak to me, Emi. Which way?”

“Down…There will be slab of concrete we can slide on.” Her weakened voice kept getting lost in the rainstorm.  “Then it’s a drop through the grate.”

He followed her instructions, while trying to keep watch for any blood guards. Making their way to the grate had been a daunting task, ending with Ignis being far more winded than he’d been in years. Gently setting Emniya against a wall, he peered around the corners lining the alleyways. They wouldn’t have much time but he needed to determine why Emniya was becoming increasingly unresponsive. Untucking her hand from her side, anguish overwhelmed his features as he saw the oozing bullet wound between her ribs. His lip quivered as he internally cursed himself for arguing with her. Not once did she ask for help with the house or for him to pay his share of living expenses. Even at the cost of her own life, she’d offered a hand to him and instead of offering gratitude he’d shown judgement. His heart felt heavy as he searched for something to stop the bleeding. Tearing his cowl in half, he formed a tourniquet around the wound. “Forgive me.” He’d placed a small kiss to her forehead before he slid open the noisy grate. Cursing his luck, he cradled his Rogue as they dropped inside together.  

“Okay, where to?” He struggled to understand her incoherent murmuring amongst the crackling thunder and oncoming blood guards’ footsteps. “Emi,” He kneeled to her level, cupping her face. “We have to get back to the clocktower. Which way do we go?”

Her head hung as she slowly raised a finger in a vague forward direction.  

“Okay, that’s a start. Stay with me.” Tightening his grip around her, Ignis rushed in the direction she’d pointed in. Every few feet he’d stop to shake her awake until she’d point them towards the right path. The blinding flashes of light caused his vision to distort in the darkness. His footsteps sloshed as he stumbled, using an arm to steady himself against the wall. Emniya’s heat had begun to diminish as he felt for a pulse in her neck. His shoulders slumped as he rounded the corners to see the sewers split into three directions as he fell to his knees in defeat. His tawny strands covered his glasses, his eyes darkened. He’d been raised to not allow emotions to affect his judgement. To push away feelings that would otherwise deter him from being the most adroit voice to the future king. He’d believed he’d be ready for anything when he set off from the East.  _How foolish._  Sitting here in a dark sewer he again reflected on the pure affection and selfless consideration Emniya had shone without any real incentive. Empathy hadn’t been a forte of his, often disregarded as a distraction to his duties. And yet in that moment, he’d swear he felt her lifeforce slipping away. Choking back a sob, he wrapped his arms around her, pleading with the Astrals to save her. His eyes welled with tears as he pressed his forehead to hers.

The air chilled inexplicably in that moment. A breath of glacial mercy surrounded them, as Ignis closed his eyes. He could have sworn he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, a reassuring kiss to his cheek as the urge to look up overwhelmed him. The image of the Glacian smiling at him vanished in a flash of lightning as he felt Emniya’s chest rise, a sudden air filling her lungs.  Her eyes fluttered open as a small smile tugged at her lips. He could still feel how weak she was, as her fingers struggled to lace themselves with his. Mint and violet connected as he lifted her chin to kiss those lips he desired so much. The gleam of his glasses must have attracted attention above the grate as its opening echoed through the sewers. In a moment, he’d pushed Emniya against his chest with one hand while materializing his dagger in the other, prepared to strike whenever he glimpsed a certain set of azures staring at him.

“Your…Highness?”

“Ignis?”

* * *

Each footstep felt heavier as Kostya followed Avarice to the building before the clocktower. He could feel the energy of the Rogues behind him. Amongst their inventory were ropes dipped in acid, rusted knives, and something called a  _tongue tearer_. He gulped at the thought of the small group finding Emniya. Lifting his head, he prayed that she’d be anywhere but home at that moment.

The storm had brought in winds that whipped the air as Kostya felt his heart race. Thunder roared as lightning struck emitting a sound like an explosion.  _Emniya was near._ Avarice must have sensed his thoughts as she unsheathed her blades, before motioning for the other Rogues to scan the area. “She’s here, isn’t she?” He tried not to flinch under her grip on his shoulders.  

He didn’t respond as the twisting in his gut grew. Avarice lifted his chin, a sadistic grin on her face. “If anyone were to know where she’d be, it’d be you.”

He swallowed his fear, feeling the poison from her daggers seep into his flesh.

The echo of gun shots reached their ears as they watched two of their Rogues collapse from the rooftops. The last of the Rogues, a boy barely in his teens, panicked as he lost his footing. His body sliding off the slippery rooftops, as he gripped onto a drain pipe for dear life. “Avarice!” He called. His eyes were wide with fear as the gun shots were growing closer. “Help me up! Please!”

“Ready for a bit of blood shed?” She whispered in Kostya’s ear.

He tensed, the blade Emniya had given him suddenly feeling hot in his hand. He felt Avarice tug on his arm, leading him to the Rogue struggling to lift himself.

Kostya felt himself go numb as Avarice reached for his palm, forcibly flicking open the knife before aiming it over the Rogue’s hand. The boy’s psyche rejected what came next.

Avarice knelt him to the ground, hand on either arm, as the blade dug through the Rogue’s wrist. Blood splattered across Kostya’ face, his stare lifeless at the Rogue’s agonizing screams. He didn’t quite have the strength to cut through the bone as Avarice laced one hand under Kostya’s arms, preventing his escape. Her free hand severed the Rogue’s tendons from the body using her blades. Kostya’s chestnut eyes lost their innocence in that moment. His face darkened as the sound of the Rogue’s body smacked against the cobblestone. Kicking the hand from the building, Avarice sighed in content. “Always such a satisfying sound.”

The burdensome weight of his decision was maddening as Kostya’s understanding of reality began to unravel. In his ten years, he’d seen more violence than what most adults had. And yet, there had been a comfort that he hadn’t ended a life. One of Emniya’s tattooed  proverbs echoed in his mind _. To end a life before it’s time causes two deaths. The one killed and the one whose actions won’t allow him to live again._

The urge to vomit watered his mouth. Acidic bile mixed horribly with his salty tears as he heaved until his arms shook. His lip quivered as he curled his fingers inward.   _Emi, what have I done?_

* * *

The joy of their reunion had been short, Ignis and his closest friends. It had been Prompto’s idea to climb over the blood walls instead of arriving through the gate. It had been Gladio’s insistence to take cover in the alleyway. The stress of the storm and the unfamiliar territory had melted away until they noticed the woman in his arms. Emniya who had remained still during their excited exchange began to stir, a groan leaving her lips. Noctis’ eyes flashed crimson, as he materialized his sword.

“Put her down.” His order was sudden, his eyes filled with rage.

Ignis froze, the gears of his mind coming to a painful realization. For the first time in his life, he’d have to  _defy_  his future king. “I can’t do that, Noct.”

“I said put her down!” His voice roared in the storm, as if the Fulgarian himself was speaking through him. “She’s the reason why we’re here in the first place!”

Gladio and Prompto exchanged glances, uncertain of how to react. Their allegiance was to Noctis, but to forsake the loyalty they shared with the strategist was too painful to act on.

“Noct, there’s more here than you know.”

“What I know,” Noctis took a step closer to Ignis, their eyes locked with equal intensity. “Is that my family’s abilities are hindered by her.” His crimson irises shot to Emniya’s violets. Even in her weakened state, her Lucian lessons allowed her to catch every third word. The whispers of Ifrit causing her to hearing to deafen as she sharpened her glare at the raven-haired teen.

The Caelum magic began to surround Noctis, the effervescent light revealing their presence to the blood guards.

Even in her debilitated state, Emniya could still channel Ifrit’s spirit, his fiery energy glowed ominously through her as she unraveled herself from Ignis’ grasp. The moment her feet touched the ground, bursts of flames encircled her. A bow materialized in her hands, arrows fresh the gates of Ifrit’s arsenal at her back. Her violet eyes burned bright as the very presence of the Infernian rose from behind her.

Noctis could feel the Fulgarian’s call, lightning striking the very ground around him. He raised his sword. She drew her bow, the blazing arrow aimed for the area right between his eyes.

The effects of lightning belting an active volcano hadn’t happened to Ignis’ knowledge. And to be completely honest, he wasn’t entirely certain that any of them would outlive the collision. Adjusting his glasses, he maintained his cool demeanor as he ambled between them. Knowing that one of them would have to yield, he looked towards Noctis first. Mint green and crimson eyes locked in their own standoff. Noctis could feel his energy shift, his glow becoming lesser than the woman in front of him. He narrowed his eyes, trailing the tangible thread leading from his magic to hers. Upon closer glance, he realized something. Her breathing was labored, and the streams falling from her cheeks weren’t tears. Blood glistened in his lightning as they joined the growing puddle at her feet. The realization caused him to lower his weapon.  _What kind of God requires the blood of his own children to manifest in our world?_

Ignis had little time to enjoy the relief coursing through him as his blood turned cold seeing the expressions before him. Overlooking his shoulder, the color faded from his face, his eyes widening in terror.

“Emniya!”

She was burning through too much energy. Flashes of the past blinded her as she felt herself return to the last time this happened.

Avarice huffed, her eyes beaming with sadistic delight as Emniya struggled to stand. Her shirt had long since been shredded, her body lined with bleeding abrasions. Her violet eyes narrowed on Avarice’s blue blades. The pain was comparable to being shot over a hundred times as Emniya began to shake uncontrollably. Her gift had come with a price. The longer she was exposed to pain, the more readily her body healed her so long as t _he time to heal did not exceed the time remaining in her afflicted body._ In other words, if Avarice was only one final blow from ending her life, she’d have to prolong the hit long enough to outlive it.

Hearing the whispers inside her, Emniya relinquished control of her body in exchange for a final burst of energy from the Infernian.  Her movements were almost mechanical as her bow manifested through blue flames, her arrows singeing her fingers. The sound of her flesh sizzling must have unnerved Avarice as the fighter took an unsteady step back. Even with her loss of vision, the arrow soared with precision towards Avarice. In an act described as the Astrals’ mercy, the arrow grazed her cheek, drawing a flawless line of blood.

Emniya hadn’t felt the ground when she collapsed. She hadn’t seen the terror on Avarice’s face or the way Mother rose from her throne.  She hadn’t heard toddler Kostya’s fearful screeches or Mother’s command for no one to assist in her dying state.

Her senses had dulled, the light fading from her eyes as she remained lifeless.  _Has my time ended, already?_  A sudden heat engulfed her as she was once again standing before Ifrit’s throne. His hand extended towards her, his mouth ushering powerful whispers.  _Not yet, daughter._

In childlike wonder, Emniya reached forward as he embraced her in the palm of his hand. Like a father nuzzling his child, he breathed life back into her body as her soul returned from the Astral plane in a fiery rebirth.

Her body consumed in flames, as she slowly rose from her back, one hand pushing her forward. Her free hand over her bare breasts. Her curls stuck to her glowing face as her violet eyes brightened, a smile spreading her lips. The flames lessened as she stood, her body healed of injuries.

Convinced that she had crossed beyond the threshold of life once more, Emniya didn’t believe she existed in her world. Images flashed in her mind as she still felt the searing pain of the Commander’s bullet in her ribcage. Her energy was flickering like a candle in the wind, desperately fighting the urge to become extinguished.  _Last chance, daughter. Make it count._ The Infernian’s whispers faded in the wind as she felt her body surge with warmth.

Heavy droplets too salty to be rain, landed on her cheek. A muffled voice reached her ear as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes fluttered open to see Ignis cradling her, soaked in her blood, his desperate pleas growing louder as his eyes screwed shut.

“Ignis…” She breathed as his eyes shot open.

“Emi, my love. You’ve returned.”

She nodded slowly. “It wasn’t my time.”

Ignis pushed the curls from her eyes. “I’m so glad.”

“Uh, guys…” Prompto’s skittish voice interrupted their thoughts as Ignis overlooked his shoulder.

“They’re here! The intruders from the Tower!” A blood guard aimed his gun at the group as Prompto aimed his duo handguns, determined to be the forefront of the attack. Gladio materialized his sword, as Noctis passed a look towards the strategist. “Any ideas?”

Before he could respond, Emniya gripped his arm. “The sewers.” She winced, sitting up. “They’ll lead to the edge of the city, we’ll have to backtrack from there.”

Ignis nodded as they rose to their feet together. She was the first inside the open grate, as Ignis called for the others. The grate slammed shut mere seconds before the first round of bullets descended upon the alley.

* * *

Bullets rained from the rooftops, ringing throughout the city. The sounds carried towards Kostya whose stomach folded into itself. The silence to follow was ominous, asphyxiating, as the young boy’s screams clawed their way from his lungs, a desperate last attempt to absolve himself. “Emniya!”


End file.
